


Share and Share-alike

by HissHex



Series: PeterMartin Week 2020 [5]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, My Simon & Peter agenda strikes again, gift giving as a love language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27542902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HissHex/pseuds/HissHex
Summary: Peter loves to give gifts to Martin, expensive pretty things.Martin doesn't have the money to buy the sorts of things Peter likes but he can certainly make something
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Peter Lukas
Series: PeterMartin Week 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007181
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	Share and Share-alike

Martin could not avoid the fact that Peter enjoyed spending money on him. From the beautiful black coat he had given him for the funeral, to the new shoes when the soles of the ones he normally used wore too thin. He spared no expense either, brands that were eye-wateringly expensive. Even their semi-weekly lunch dates cost enough for Martin to feel a slither of guilt induced nausea if he peeked at the bill.  Martin often didn’t feel like he deserved all these nice things but Peter was often swift to come up with reasons why he deserved all that and more. Talking of dedication to his work and bravery. Martin had a secret thought sometimes that half of the reasoning behind Peter’s gifts were that the older man wouldn’t know what to do without Martin there to fix everything that “went wrong” with his computer. 

Peter had recently picked up on his love of poetry if the book on his desk was any indication. Martin had come into work that morning juggling his bag and coffee for the two of them, nearly spilling them all over himself as he cracked his office door open. 

He didn’t notice the package on his desk at first, it was only as he settled down and switched his laptop on that he saw the paper wrapped parcel. It was tied with string and Martin thought it endearingly retro. He had a fondness for old fashioned things and he supposed that might have been part of Peter’s charm, not that he would ever admit that to his boss. 

H e pulled the string and the paper fell apart to show its contents. A book of  Yeats’ poetry, Martin took the opportunity since Peter was not there to roll his eyes, and a notebook and pen set. He moved the book to one side. The notebook was thick and leather bound and Martin knew he was going to end up so anxious that he would ruin it that he would never write in it. He decided to only write up his finished poems in it, and to carefully sketch the words in pencil first. The pen was the sort of type that you refilled from ink rather than use cartridges. The tip of the pen was gold and it felt heavy in his hand.  Another unnecessary expense and he considered scolding Peter for the waste of money. He carefully placed them into this bag, no need for them to get dusty or damaged before he could get them home. 

As he picked up the book of poetry, a note slipped out. 

  
  


_ Martin, _

_ You have mentioned your poetry a few times and, while it is not something I have shown interest in myself, I remembered reading this when I was younger. I slipped it out of the library at Moorland the last time we went. They won’t miss it and I know you would appreciate it.  _

_ Yours, _

_ Peter Lukas _

  
  


Martin choked at the idea that this book was stolen from the Lukas family home and he was almost so afraid that he would have dropped it. Luckily he didn’t and not only because the book looked old,  its binding frail and the colours of the cover faded (though prolonged exposure to the Forsaken, such as the constant Lonely aura in Moorland House, could do that in a mere couple of years.) He carefully opened the front page, it was a first edition of course and Martin had to take a moment to consider the cost of the book in his hands and firmly decided for his own well being not to look up the price online.  It was, despite the ridiculous price, a very thoughtful gift and it warmed his heart to think that Peter had gone through that much trouble just to give Martin something that he didn’t even know if he would like. 

He couldn’t stop the faint smile that grew on his face and didn’t leave throughout the rest of the day. Peter didn’t show up at all, even when Martin knocked on his office door to thank him for the gift. 

How could he even put into words how much it meant to him. He loved all of Peter’s gifts, but they were often practical, something that Peter could play off as just being concerned for his assistant. This was the first gift that Peter had given for the sheer purpose of making Martin happy. 

Martin thought about it all the way home to his little apartment. Peter had offered to pay for a bigger place a month or so back and Martin had turned him down only because the thought made him feel oddly embarrassed. He sat down and carefully transcribed a few of his favourite of his poems into the notebook and left them to dry while he made dinner. 

He shifted his knitting needles off the side table for his tea as he sat down in front of the tv, the sound of them clattering to the floor making him jump a little. He looked at them for a moment. 

One of the things that Martin and Peter shared was an appreciation for jumpers. Peter always wore stiff scratchy sweaters that Martin could have sworn were designed to be as uncomfortable as possible. He knew they were some fancy brand and that Peter had five or so in his wardrobe in the same shade of grey. Martin in the other hand loved his hand knit sweaters, soft and warm. Before he had worked at the Institute he had used to make them out of all sorts of colours, mixing in the same jumper just because he could. He had needed to be a little more professional once he got a job at the Institute,  though with how little respect Jon had for the dress code the neutral tones he had favoured when he worked in the library shifted into solid bright colours once in the Archives. He should however, still have some left of the pale neutral colours from before. He sifted through his wool to check, yes just enough as long as he didn’t make too many mistakes. 

It took him quite some time and Peter’s flow of little gifts didn’t stop in that time. He had been forced to throw a coffee onto one of Peter’s jumpers and make excuses that he was going to get it cleaned just so he could get the sizing right. It was about two months of knitting when he got home from his long days at work before the thing was finished. He wrapped it in brown paper and tied it in twine like the book had been and set off to work early. 

The Institute was always lonely for Martin these days, but it at least felt more natural when the place was actually empty.  He knocked on the door to Peter’s office and peeked his head round the door, no one was inside.  
He crept into Peter’s office and placed the gift on the old, heavy wooden desk. Martin ran off back to his own office to start his work, waiting for a response from Peter. 

Lunch passed by and there was nothing. 

He waited all day, sighing as the end of the work-day arrived and Peter was no where to be seen. 

Martin was just about to crack open his office door to leave when Peter pushed it open. 

He was wearing the jumper, the soft white contrasting quite nicely against the dark blue of his coat. 

“Hello Pe-”

“Thank you for the jumper Martin. You… I… You didn’t to do that. Where did you buy it from, might I ask, I would not mind another.” He was trying to look stoic but Martin was not fooled at all.

“You are welcome Peter. And I didn’t buy it, I made it for you. If you give me another couple of months I can make you another though, that wouldn’t be a problem.”

Martin thought he was hallucinating at first, but no, Peter was flushing red and there was a slight smile that he was clearly trying to repress.  
“Yes, um well. Thank you again Martin. See you tomorrow.”

Peter didn’t even have the decency to walk back out the door before disappearing into the Lonely. Martin snorted and left the office with a grin on his face. It was good to feel appreciated. 

  
  


  
  


“Simon what do I do? He made me this sweater and it’s really nice! It is soft and he made it! He didn’t even buy it. No one had ever put that much effort into something for me! None of my gifts have been as nice as this. It was in the same pattern as my other jumpers so it doesn’t even stand out, its just much better. Why are the ones I bought so uncomfortable Simon? I just thought that’s the way they had to be but clearly not. And look at this letter he slipped into the package.”

_ Peter,  _

_ The book was a very thoughtful gift. Thank you.  _

_ Love,  
Martin _   
  
“Love? Love! Does that mean what I think it does or is he just being nice? Simon don’t just sit there and laugh, answer me! What does it mean? And he offered to make me another even though I hadn’t given him anything nice. Is he expecting me to give him something for the next jumper? I will have to think of something really good. Maybe I will get him that flat, that will be good enough right? Simon you have hundreds of years experience why are you no help at all!? This isn’t funny!”

**Author's Note:**

> I looked up how much a book of Yeats poetry, first edition can cost and it can hit £8000 or $11000 which is ridonkulous


End file.
